


we might be each other's last first kiss

by miraculousmads (ausllydawmoon)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 14:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18812992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausllydawmoon/pseuds/miraculousmads
Summary: "Maybe we won't, but maybe we will."/Or where she's afraid of swallowing her pride, and he knows her too well. Marichat. Ladynoir. One-shot.





	we might be each other's last first kiss

Marinette had somehow developed a regular communication with Paris’s most annoying, most feline superhero. It started with just one night of comforting him right after she broke his heart as Ladybug (because _that_ makes sense), and pretty soon he was knocking on the door to her bedroom at least once or twice a week. Now, he comes over pretty much every night. She’s started waiting out there for him with a glass of chocolate milk (“It’s not a cat thing!” he always whines, but she’ll never believe that). And when he doesn’t come, he’ll usually call and let her know, because apparently their communication devices don’t solely work between Miraculous holders. Who knew?

So as she and Chat Noir stare out at the city lights late one night, she’s a little taken off guard when he says, “Thanks for letting me come over.”

She looks over at him where he sits on top of her balcony railing, long legs swinging in the open air. He wipes his chocolate milk mustache on his sleeve (which she must admit, she finds quite endearing) and looks at her with those glowing eyes.

“You come over every night. You don’t have to thank me.”

“I’m thanking you for letting me come over every night. You’re a very nice escape from my regular life.” He takes another long swig of chocolate milk.

She crosses her arms and rests them on the railing, railing an eyebrow at him. “What, being a superhero isn’t enough?”

He smiles a little. “That’s part of regular life for me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being Chat Noir and it’s a great escape from my civilian life, but sometimes even being a superhero gets to be too much.”

“What about Ladybug?” Marinette asks. “Why isn’t she your escape?”

“What, you don’t like hanging out with me?” he asks, pouting at her.

She rolls her eyes and nudges him with her shoulder. “I tolerate you. But I dunno, I just thought you’d wanna spend more time with Ladybug than with some random civilian. Don’t you _loooove_ her?” Marinette teases.

Chat grimaces and looks down at his chocolate milk for a few seconds. When he looks up again, he stares straight ahead, and not at Marinette. “Ladybug is…difficult sometimes,” he says.

Marinette raises an eyebrow. Chat Noir rarely says anything bad about Ladybug, so when he does, you know it’s something _really_ bothering him. And, as Ladybug, Marinette would never intentionally hurt Chat, so she makes a point to stop whatever it is that’s bothering him about Ladybug as soon as possible.

“Difficult how?” Marinette asks.

Chat shrugs and shakes his head, finishing the last of his chocolate milk and leaning back to set the glass on the table behind him. When he sits back up again, Marinette has a little trouble taking his broody mood seriously with the chocolate mustache that’s reappeared on his face. She fights a small smile.

“She just…I don’t know.” Chat Noir shakes his head again and wipes his face, now looking _actually_ broody instead of like a pouty five-year-old. “I do love her, but I feel like she doesn’t appreciate me sometimes. And I don’t mean that in an egotistical way—”

“It’s okay if you do. You _are_ Chat Noir, after all. You wouldn’t be you without a little ego.”

He smiles a little at that, and she smiles too. “I really don’t. And I know she appreciates my value to the team we make when we’re saving Paris, but I feel like she doesn’t really appreciate me as a friend. I mean, I’m sure she does, but the way she acts…I feel like she sees me as a nine-year-old in love with his sixteen-year-old babysitter, you know? Like she’s just humoring me instead of actually being my friend. And that sucks because even though we don’t know each other’s civilian identities, she’s one of my best friends in the whole world but that’s not really reciprocated.”

Her smile fades pretty fast during his speech. She had no idea that was how she was treating him. She always brushed off his flirting because she didn’t really know if he was just being playful and joking around or if he was serious, so she didn’t know how to respond. But apparently that’s not the message she’s sending him, and her heart breaks at the realization. All she wants to do now is transform into Ladybug and tackle-hug him and tell him how much he means to her. But she just takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Chat. But from the interactions between you two I’ve seen on TV, it does seem like she really cares about you. Maybe she just sucks at showing it, which still isn’t much better. Have you talked to her about it?”

“A little, but I don’t know if I should bring it up again. I don’t like fighting with her. Plus, if we’re in a fight, Paris could suffer because of it.”

“It may not be a fight. Maybe she doesn’t know she’s doing it. And even if it _is_ a fight, it’s better for you to put all that on the table in a controlled environment instead of letting it all build up and risk snapping in the middle of a battle, you know? Plus, I know you love her, but there’s clearly a little resentment in there too because of how she treats you, and that’s no doubt already hurting your teamwork anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says.

“I always am.”

He smiles a little and climbs off the railing. She turns to face him.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he says. “Somehow, you always know just what to say.”

She smiles and shrugs, looking down sheepishly. “Anytime, Chat.”

Suddenly, he pulls her in for a tight hug. She hugs him back just as tight, closing her eyes. She’s probably hugged him a million times, but there’s something different between hugging him as Ladybug and hugging him as Marinette. When she’s Ladybug, her pride tends to take over. (Maybe _that’s_ the issue with how she treats Chat Noir.) But as Marinette, she doesn’t have to worry about him thinking he’s winning her over; she’s just Marinette, hugging one of her very tall, very warm friends.

“Alright, Kitty, you go get some rest,” she says when they pull away.

He tilts his head. “What’d you call me?”

“Kitty?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

He smiles a little. “Ladybug calls me that too.”

Her heart pounds. “Oh. I’m…sorry?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. She doesn’t own the nickname.”

She starts breathing a little easier. “Right. Well, you’ll have to keep me updated.”

“You know I will.”

She reaches up to ruffle his hair. “Goodnight, _Kitty_.”

“Goodnight, Marinette.” He shoots her one of his million-dollar grins, winks, and leaps off her balcony into the night.

Marinette picks up Chat’s empty glass and carries it back inside. While she changes into her pajamas, Tikki zips out of her purse.

“He could’ve figured you out tonight, Marinette,” she scolds.

“But he didn’t,” Marinette replies absently.

“I still think being friends with Chat Noir in your civilian form is too dangerous, but if you insist on doing it you _need_ to be more careful.”

“I _am_ careful, Tikki. He won’t find out. And even if he did…would that be so bad?”

“Yes!” Tikki exclaims. Marinette sighs and climbs in bed.

“I didn’t know I was treating Chat so badly,” Marinette says after a while. “I feel really bad.”

“Well, now that you do know, you can fix it,” Tikki says. “You just gotta learn to swallow your pride a little and tell him how much he means to you every once in a while.”

Marinette nods and closes her eyes. Tikki curls up next to Marinette’s head on the pillow.

“You seem to really enjoy Chat’s company,” Tikki notes after a few more beats of silence.

“Despite what he thinks, he’s one of my best friends too. Now both as Ladybug _and_ Marinette.”

“Right. Friends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, all the nudges and teasing and hugs and hair-ruffling points a little more towards flirting,” Tikki points out.

“I was _not_ flirting with Chat Noir,” Marinette scoffs. Then she yawns. “You’re just delirious, Tikki.”

“Whatever you say,” Tikki replies. “But it’s okay if you _do_ have feelings for him, Marinette. Just because you used to be annoyed by his flirting doesn’t mean you have to continue acting annoyed by it if you’re starting to like him.”

“Tikki, I don’t like him. I like Adrien, remember? Go to bed.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Goodnight, Marinette.”

Marinette sighs. “Goodnight, Tikki.”

As she drifts off to sleep, though, Marinette feels almost guilty because she isn’t thinking about Adrien. No, instead, her mind is occupied by images of that stupid, beautiful Chat Noir million-dollar grin.

* * *

 

“Hey, Ladybug, can I talk to you?” Chat asks her after patrol the next night.

“Of course. What’s up?” She tries to act confused and oblivious, but he seems to be lost in his own mind.

They sit down together on the rooftop they’re on, swinging their legs off the edge. He doesn’t talk for a while, and she looks over at him patiently.

“So…what I wanted to talk to you about is…” He takes a deep breath. Is he _nervous_? Is she really so terrible to him he’s afraid to talk to her about it?

She rests a hand on his arm gently. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.”

He glances over at her uncertainly, but she feels him relax under her hand. “Right,” he says, looking down at his lap again. “It’s just…I feel like I don’t know where I stand with you.” He finally looks at her, and his eyes are hard to read.

She frowns and tilts her head, dropping her hand from his arm. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

Now, a little more comfortable, he turns his body to face her, pulling one leg up onto the roof. “I mean, I think I know where I stand with you deep down, but from the way you act, I feel like it’s hard to be sure. Like, sometimes you act like we’re friends, but then other times you act like I’m nothing more than a teammate. A valuable teammate, sure, but still just a teammate. And then you sometimes even act like you might sorta like me, and—”

“Chat Noir, you know you’re one of my best friends,” she tells him.

“Yeah, it’s just…easy to forget when you roll your eyes every time I say something nice to you,” he tells her hesitantly.

“I thought it was just silly teasing and flirting,” she admits. “I don’t really know how to respond to it.”

He presses his lips together in a tight line. “No…it’s real,” he says.

“Chat Noir, I’m _so_ sorry,” she says, eyes wide. Then she wraps him in a tackle-hug like she wanted to last night. “You are _so_ important to me.”

He swallows and wraps his arms around her slowly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You really didn’t think any of what I said is real?”

She pulls away to look at him. “I mean, yeah. You’re flirty by nature and jokes are your whole shtick, you know?”

He hesitates, looking at her with those innocent, glowing green eyes. “You know how I feel about you, Ladybug,” he says tiredly.

She bites her lip. “I never know if you actually feel that way or if it’s just part of your flirty personality.”

“I don’t think it’s _my_ feelings you’re unsure of.”

She knits her eyebrows together and looks up at him. “What?”

“You’re using that as an excuse so you don’t have to address your own feelings,” he says.

Her heart pounds, and she realizes he’s right. _Swallow your pride. Tell him how you feel._ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He gives her a look. “Like you said, we’re best friends. I may not know your civilian identity, but I do know _you_.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” she asks. “Even if I _did_ have, y’know, romantic feelings for you, which I’m not saying I do, it’s not like we could date.”

“Why not? Are you scared?”

“We only know each other as superheroes. And a relationship without knowing each other’s civilian identities is unsustainable. So, yeah, I am a little scared. I don’t wanna break up and ruin our friendship and our team. We have all of Paris counting on us to work well together, and dating would just ruin that. It could never work,” she explains.

He shakes his head. “I think you’re scared because it _could_.”

“Why would that scare me?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

He pulls his other leg up on the roof and sits back on his heels, getting more excited now. “Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it?” he says, pointing a finger at her and smiling. “You’re scared because you don’t wanna swallow your pride and admit that you fell for me, or worse, fall for me harder. So instead of even _trying_ something, you’re just shutting it down and trying to convince yourself that it could never work when you _know_ it could, and probably would.”

She sighs and copies his position, watching him and trying to keep her calm. “Really? And how exactly would it work, us not knowing each other as civilians?”

“You know that’s not the point of this conversation. But we would just take things slow and cross that bridge when we get to it. If we got serious enough, we’d probably end up telling each other. I mean, we’ve already talked about telling each other because we’re such close friends.” He shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And besides, we’re best friends and already halfway into a relationship anyway with all the flirting and worrying about each other and protecting each other, and our identities haven’t gotten in the way yet.”

She hates that he’s actually making valid points. _Swallow your pride._ “Well…what if it didn’t work? Are we really risking the safety of Paris just to try being in a relationship that has a _small chance_ of working out?”

“Is this you admitting that you like me?” he asks with a grin.

She pauses, realizing what she’s just walked into, and presses her lips together. She turns her head and avoids his eyes. “I’m just…exploring the hypotheticals.”

He narrows his eyes, his grin melting into an amused smirk. “I’ll take that. And you and I both know that Paris wouldn’t suffer for us being together. If anything, it’ll make us a better team. And if we do break up, we care enough about protecting the city to be mature enough to keep being a kickass team.”

She takes a deep breath, mulling his words over in her mind. She knows he’s right. Again. Has he ever been right so many times in such a short period before?

He knows he’s right, too. He’s looking at her with that smile and those eyes and at this point they _both_ know she’s gonna give in.

“If you need, m’lady, I can get you some water or something to make your pride go down a little easier when you swallow it.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I hate you.”

He simply shoots her another one of those stupid-cute grins, and she finally gives up. When she really thinks about it, she can’t really think of a reason why she’s fighting this so hard, anyway. He clearly cares about her, and she _knows_ he’d be an amazing boyfriend. Romance seems built into his DNA, and he already knows her better than anyone else. She loves spending time with him, he makes her laugh, and she could stay wrapped in his arms all day. He literally checks off all of her boxes (minus the glaringly obvious question of his identity, but they can cross that bridge when they get to it), so her pride is the only reason she’s been fighting her feelings for him.

“So, about that glass of water…did you actually want one, or—”

“You are _not_ making this easy,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t be me if I did, Bugaboo.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, doing her best not to smile at his stupid teasing. But she’s failing. Miserably.

When she opens her eyes again, his face is so close their noses are almost touching. “Fine,” she says quietly. “Maybe I do like you a little.”

“Thank you for admitting it. I’m proud of you.” He bumps his nose against hers, and she can’t help but smile again. But then she frowns.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does?”

She leans back to look at him. That goofy grin is still on his face, and his eyes are sparkling. But for the first time, she doesn’t feel like she’s given him the ‘upper hand’ by telling him how she feels. Now she just gets a warm feeling in her chest seeing him so happy.

“I’m gonna kiss you now. On the mouth.”

And then he does.

* * *

 

As Chat Noir sits on her balcony railing drinking his chocolate milk, she notices that he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. She watches him in amusement for a while before speaking up.

“You seem a lot happier than the last time I saw you,” she notes.

He looks over at her, still smiling. “I talked to Ladybug last night,” he tells her.

She raises her eyebrows. “Did you now? I’m gonna assume it went well?”

“It went better than I ever could’ve expected,” he replies. Then he looks down almost sheepishly. “We’re gonna give it a try.”

“Give it a try…” Marinette says, acting confused. Then her eyes widen. “Oh. _Oh_. You’re dating?”

His cheeks turn pink, and she really hates that she can’t kiss him right now. But she could always transform as soon as he leaves and call him.

“Yeah, I guess we are.” Then he glances at her hesitantly. “You’re…okay with this, right?”

Now she really is confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well…” He hops down from the railing and looks down at her. “I’ve kinda been getting some vibes from you lately…”

She raises her eyebrows. If he figured out she likes him as _both_ her identities before she even fully accepted it, she must really suck at hiding it. But she simply smiles at him gently. “I’ll be okay,” she promises. “You and Ladybug are perfect for each other.”

“You think so?” he asks her. She realizes with a bit of a shock that he genuinely wants to know her honest opinion. So she gives it to him.

“I do.”

“Even though we don’t know each other’s identities?”

“I’m sure you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it, yeah?”

He raises an eyebrow at her, and she immediately starts panicking. She used his own words from their conversation last night. _He knows he knows he knows he knows._

But if he really does know, he doesn’t point it out. Instead, he just gives her a small, sweet smile, his mask crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “You’re awesome, you know that?” he asks her.

She smiles back. “Thanks, Kitty. You’re pretty awesome yourself. Ladybug is the luckiest girl in the world.”

His smile turns wistful, and she knows he’s lost in his own head again. “I’m the luckiest _guy_ in the world. I really hope it works out for us,” he says.

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “It will. I know it.”

And she means it.


End file.
